


Sick

by cinnamon_rolling



Series: Fenrys & Connall, and sometimes the Cadre [7]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27264475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_rolling/pseuds/cinnamon_rolling
Summary: Fenrys takes care of Connall when he's sick
Relationships: Connall & Fenrys (Throne of Glass)
Series: Fenrys & Connall, and sometimes the Cadre [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709836
Kudos: 13





	Sick

**Author's Note:**

> found this in my docs from months ago, so I edited it and decided to post. hope you enjoy :)
> 
> **also, you know that feeling when you look back and see clear progress in your writing skills? yeah, it's pretty great :) **

Fenrys pokes his head through the door of his twin’s room and grimaces. The air is heavy with body odor, the lights are off and the shades are drawn. With a bowl of soup in his hands, he walks to the lump of covers on the bed. It’s only only a quarter of the way full; Con doesn’t normally eat much when he’s sick, and he doesn’t expect that to change now. Besides, the soup itself is fairly hearty, with noodles and chicken and plenty of vegetables.  
  
“Connall,” he keeps his voice low, “I brought you some soup.”  
  
There’s a faint whine.  
  
“I know you’re not hungry, but you haven’t eaten since yesterday. It’s not healthy.” He sets the bowl on the nightstand next to the bed and sits next to the cocoon of blankets.  
  
Connall whines again.  
  
Fenrys sighs and places a hand on Connall’s side. “Connall—”  
  
He’s interrupted by dry, wracking coughs and gasping. He winces and pulls his twin into an upright position. The covers slide off and he’s met with his twin’s flushed, pained face. Fenrys keeps a hand on his shoulder, waiting for the episode to pass.  
  
Finally, the coughing ceases and Connall drops his head on his chest. Fenrys weakly smiles and brings his hand up to cradle his head. “I need you to try and eat.”  
  
Connall only breathes, the air rattling around in his lungs. But he doesn’t argue. Fenrys takes it as a sign to keep going. “Gavriel made it just for you. His special chicken noodle soup.”  
  
“Drugs?” It comes out raspy, and he winces for his brother’s throat. Then what Con said sinks in, and he can’t help but laugh.  
  
“No, not that kind of special.”  
  
Connall scowls. “I d’un wan’ it then.”  
  
“Maybe I’ll slip some in next time.”  
  
He feels Connall smile against his chest. “That’d b’sweet.”  
  
This love from his brother is rare at best; the fact that he’s voluntarily leaning on him more and more with each passing second is incredible, and though it may be a little desperate he’s soaking it in while he can. And if he takes a little longer to pull away and grab the soup from the nightstand, well, no one’s here to see it.  
  
He sets the bowl in Con’s lap. “Five full spoonfuls.”  
  
Connall scowls, but accepts the bowl, and relief floods Fenrys. With a hand that’s only slightly shaky, he eats the agreed amount and then some, and Fenrys can’t help the proud smile.  
  
Then he hands him back the bowl and collapses back on the bed with a sigh as dramatic as his own.  
  
Fenrys shoves down the disappointment— there goes his last hug from his brother for the next month or so— and rearranges the covers over him until he’s swaddled again, with a good amount tucked under his chin. Then he stands and starts to leave.  
  
“Thanks, Fen.”  
  
His heart lurches at the rarely spoken words, and he swallows around the lump in his throat. “Anytime.”


End file.
